Brothers
by Misgiving Writer
Summary: They had been there for each other through everything. Love, death, disabilities. They have conquered it all, standing by each others side. Now? Now that is all about to fall apart.


A/N: This was written for the Have You Heard My Side Of The Story challenge on the Warriors Challenge Forum (link in my profile). It was actually really fun to write, though I'm not sure on how it turned out. New style ideas and all that jazz. ^-^

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"I've done everything for you!" Foxheart snarls, ears pinned flat to his head. "I've given up my life for you, Stonepelt! And this is what you do in return?"

Stonepelt doesn't answer his brother - because, really, how can he? What Foxheart says is the truth. The ginger tom has given up almost everything in his life for him. What wasn't given up was taken.

_"Don't worry, Stonekit." Foxpaw meows. He brushes his tail over the scrawy grey toms back, smoothing down the rumpled fur. The action doesn't brush away the smattering of red that now stains the young kits pelt though, nor does it stop the shake that has been constant since the battle began at sunset. "Momma may be gone, but I promise that I'll take care of you."_

Prey.

_The ShadowClan queen only took Stonekit in long enough to wean him from his mothers milk. The moment that he could chew meat, the grey kit was thrown back into ThunderClan territory, alone and unloved by all but one. In a time when there was so little prey, no one could spare a meal for a mute kitten. No one but Foxpaw, who brought his younger brother something to eat every day. Without fail. Even when it meant giving up his own fresh-kill._

Health.

_"Stonepaw! Get down!" Foxheart knows that it's too late even as he calls out the warning. He can see the dark brown cub lifting up one of its massive paws, prepared to bring it down on the cowering toms skull. So Foxheart moves and flings himself in front of Stonepaw - and there is pain and warmth and fear and then...Nothing._

Power.

_Every cat waits with baited breath, eyes glued to the two cats standing in the center of the clearing. This is a good thing for their Clan, and they all know it. No cat but Foxheart is fit to take on the role of deputy. Yet the warrior shakes his head and lets his tail droop onto the ground behind him. "I'm sorry, Finchstar, I can't. I'm not fit for that position. But...I think that Stonepelt would do well as deputy."_

Respect.

_"I didn't catch it." Foxheart lies, shaking his head. His fellow warriors tilt their heads and mutter to each other, because they saw him bring the large hare into the camp. It's big enough to feed at least three warriors or all of the elders, something desperately needed. So why would he lie? "Stonepelt was the one who killed it. He's the hunter of the two of us."_

Love.

_"You're beautiful, Whiterain." Foxheart purrs, twining his tail with the white she-cats. There is love in his voice and warmth in his eyes. He is happy like he has never been. Like he has never dreamt he could be. His mate lets out a purr and leans into him, their pelts brushing as they sit beneath the star-lit sky. "Beautiful."_

At one point, it was all in the ginger warriors reach. Then he gave it all up for Stonepelt, so that his younger sibling could have a chance at a real life. At something that would never be taken away, that would never be lost, and would never be tarnished no matter what words were said in anger.

Stonepelt knows all of this and, inside, he is thanking the older tom. Nothing can erase those moments or those words. And, right now, he knows that nothing can make up for the time that he stole from Foxpelt. At least, nothing that can be said in a few flicks of his tail or a twitch of his ear. So he is silent and he is still.

"No!" Foxheart yowls. "You don't get to stand there and just be quiet! You don't get to apologize and just be forgiven. Not this time - not after taking her from me. Whiterain...you killed her."

For a moment, Stonepelt sees hesitance in his older brothers gaze. Foxheart doesn't want to do this, not to his own brother. But it was his mate that Stonepelt killed, and that's that. There's no cure for death and there's no way that she can be brought back.

No matter what happens though, Stonepelt will always find a way to see Foxheart again. One day, when things have been fixed, he will find his brother.

"I can't forgive you, Stonepelt." Foxheart repeats, and though his hackles are still raised, his voice has softened some. "Not now."

The dark grey tom merely gives a small nod. He knew that, by killing Whiterain, he would be destroying all the trust there was between him and his only kin.

But what choice did he have? _She was helping RiverClan steal our prey._

Who should he have told? _No one, not with Finchstar so ill._

What else should have been done? _Nothing. _

So instead of trying to defend himself, Stonepelt just looks at the ginger tom oppisite him. Takes in the rippling muscles and the sun-kissed fur and the intelligent glint in his dark green eye. Remembers how each scar that marrs his pelt was gotten and when. Thinks about all the times that Foxheart put himself in harms way in order to protect him.

Then, Stoneheart turns and runs.

With each step taken, he lets his paws drum out a silent thank you. They let out a meaning that words never could, sounding a drum that can only be heard by Foxheart. Each leaf that is flung into the air as he runs tells a story. Every pebble that digs into the tender flesh of his paws is a memory. The thorns digging into dark grey fur, a goodbye.

Yes, Foxheart has done everything for Stonepelt. Now, Stonepelt will do what he can to give it back.


End file.
